


Calculated

by Tanaqui



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: fic_promptly, Gen, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 08:05:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1338130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanaqui/pseuds/Tanaqui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean learned to make money stretch as far as possible when he was young and how to tell the time so he could judge when Dad was due back and when things were a problem. (Written for a prompt at the <a href="http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/">Fic Promptly comm at Dreamwidth</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calculated

"No, Sammy, not those." Dean took the bag of candy out of the shopping basket and put it back on the shelf. "You'll like these much better." 

He picked a different bag of candy from the shelf above and showed it to Sam, before dropping it in the basket. It was half the size and a third the price and the candy wouldn't be as nice, but Sam wasn't yet old enough to figure that out. Even so, there was a brief moment, as Sam leaned forward peering at the replacement candy doubtfully, when Dean thought he was going to make a scene.

Instead, he nodded agreeably, looking back up at Dean. "What next?"

"Okay, we need some bread." Dean gestured for Sam to go ahead of him down the mini-mart aisle to where the shelves were stacked with bread. He picked out the cheapest, largest loaf, mentally adding the cost to the price of the candy. "Peanut butter...."

Sam's face fell. He liked peanut butter well enough, but the two of them had eaten a lot of it in the past year. 

"And we'll get some canned sausages," Dean offered. Their motel room had a tiny kitchenette, so he'd be able to heat the sausages, and he still had a stash of ketchup and mustard packets from the last time Dad had taken them to a diner.

Sam's face split into a grin at the news. "I'll go look!" He scooted around the end of the shelves in search of the promised bounty.

Dean followed more slowly, reckoning the cost against the dwindling fold of bills zipped into the inside pocket of his jacket. He'd been careful the past few days, and the money would stretch. Besides, either Dad would be back tomorrow from his latest hunting trip—or it would be time to make the call to Pastor Jim.


End file.
